Ch. 281..290

Chapter 281

“That’s not fair, Cora,” I scold, narrowing my eyes and sitting back against my pillows as I cross my arms.

“Don’t you want it, though?” she accuses, opening her eyes wider as if she’d like to hear me deny it. “It would be very neat, wouldn’t it? Two sisters matched up with two brothers? Our kids would be so close – they wouldn’t even have another set of cousins!”

“I think that sounds amazing!” I exclaim.

“Ella!” she cries, throwing up her hands. “There can’t be any kids!”

My mouth drops open as my mind whirls and Cora glares at me as I start to put my thoughts together. To begin, Cora,” I say, holding up a finger and beginning my argument. I feel, in this moment, that my hours of television post–hospital have benefitted me here – I’ve watched a lot of law dramas, and I lay out my argument like any lawyer in a court room. “Do you even want kids? Because ever since we left the orphanage, I was always the one who was crazy to be a mom, and you were always interested in building your career

“What,” she snaps, crossing her arms, “just because I have a career means I don’t want kids?

I take a deep breath through my nose. She’s really starting to piss me off now, like a real sister which, of course, she always has been. “Obviously I don’t think that, Cora, and you’re doing me a real discredit by suggesting that I would. I’m just pointing out that it’s never seemed like children were at the top of your list of life desires! But now you’re using it as a reason to break up with Roger!?”

“There’s nothing to break up! We weren’t even going out!” She blurts out, frustrated and defensive. I just shake my head at her, waiting until she looks at me again, which she does after a moment of breathing deeply and pulling herself together.

“Even if you weren’t officially dating, Cora,” I continue. “You know that there was something between you. That there is something between you! Something big. Don’t insult my intelligence by trying to pretend that there wasn’t.”

Cora sighs, folding her hands in her lap and looking down at them. I wait, my patience running thin.

“All right, Ella,” she murmurs, still not meeting my eyes. “There is something there. Of course there is Roger he makes me…”

She sighs, unable to put it into words, and I lean forward, adding my hand to my sister’s in her lap, letting her know that I hear her. She looks up at me then, tears in her eyes. “I just don’t know what future there is with us. And I’m scared to…to put my time and my heart into this if I know it just has a bad ending. Why even try, if he’s going to leave me for someone who can give him

children?”

“Well, that brings me to my second point,” I say in a hurry, shaking my head at her in wonder. “If you’re so against dating a werewolf because of your biological differences, then why are you dating Doctor Hank?”

Cora’s jaw drops open at this. “Ella…”

“What?” 1 demand, leaning forward

Cora bursts out laughing, raising her hand to her mouth and shaking her head at me, a little good- natured pity in her eyes “Ella, Hank is human”

“What!” I gasp, sitting up dead straight. “No he’s not – he’s a wolf–he is a wolf doctor, he knows all about wolf anatomy-”

Cora just laughs harder, falling back on the bed and cackling at me

“She’s right,” I hear, and I spin to my mate who I didn’t hear approaching the room “You didn’t know?” Sinclait asks, leaning against the door frame. “You couldn’t smell it on him?”

“What!” I repeat, looking between the two of them, apparently unable to come up with any other exclamation “What!?”

Sinclair joins Cora in her laughter, shaking his head at me and giving me a fond look. I turn a little red with embarrassment and throw pillows at both of them. “Stop laughing at me! How was I supposed to know!”

Cora sits up then, whipping her eyes. “Don’t you have like, extra senses that are able to tell you these sorts of things?” she asks, smiling at me, I think happy to have the upper hand again

“Well, sorry I was too busy dying to get a good sniff of him,” I grumble, throwing another pillow at her and looking bashfully at Sinclair. “But seriously, if he’s human, why does he know so much about wolf biology? Why is he such a great wolf doctor?”

“He dated a wolf in med school at Harvard, apparently,” Cora explains, calming down and taking a deep breath now. I lean forward to listen, glad that she’s not yelling or laughing at me anymore. She let him in on the secret and he was fascinated. He also saw the opportunity to break into a relatively small medical field and be the top man at the job.”

“It’s true,” Sinclair adds, nodding to me. “While shifters of course have our own medical personnel, not many shifters themselves are drawn to the years‘ worth of study and toil that it takes to become a doctor. It’s not that we’re stupid or lazy,” he shrugs, “just we tend to be drawn to more physically engaging jobs.”

“Oh,” I say, curious, my mind drifting towards my baby. Does this mean he’s going to be a jock? I was kind of hoping he’d be a nice quiet nerd, so I could keep him home forever. “So, are a lot of wolf doctors humans?”

“Not a lot,” Sinclair responds. “But enough. I mean, you saw it – in order to get fertility treatment, I had to go to a human sperm bank. It’s a lucrative field, if you can break into it and are quite good at the work. And if, like Hank, you can learn the culture enough to communicate effectively with your clientele. It was helpful to me, when you were ill, that he recognized my Alpha tendencies and was able to respond appropriately.”

“Well,” I say, glancing at him a little ruefully. “Sounds like everyone is team Hank now except for me.”

Sinclair frowns and straightens up. “You don’t like Hank? Did he do something

“No,” I say, holding up a hand and stopping him from chasing the poor man down and baring his fangs to demand what the he did to offend me. “He’s fine. I’m just.” I sigh, and tip my head back, staring at the ceiling. “I was just rooting for someone else.” I give Cora a little glare.

“Well,” she says, giving me a prim little shrug. “In this case, it doesn’t matter who you root for, because I’m the referee. And I don’t listen to the fans.”

Sinclair just looks between us, his face screwed up in confusion. “What the hell are you two talking about?”

As one, we turn towards him and give him simultaneous sisterly glares

“Nothing,” I say, snapping my mouth shut.

“Sister stuff,” Cora replies haughtily. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Sinclair just puts his hands up, admitting defeat. “No worries,” he concedes, “I don’t want to know anyway. I’ll go downstairs and get you guys some snacks. Do you want anything in particular? “Oreos!” I shout as he goes. “And hot sauce! Celery with peanut butter on top!”

Cora laughs, leaning forward and poking me in the belly. “This little guy has a weird appetite,” she says, grinning.

“Yeah,” I say, sighing as I look down at my body and wonder what he’s thinking in there. “He’s got my tastebuds all screwed up.”

We’re quiet a moment before I start again. “Cora,” I say, rubbing my stomach. She looks up at me. Just don’t count him out, okay?”

She frowns, opening her mouth to say something, but I put up a hand, asking her to let me finish Slowly, she pulls her mouth shut and lets me continue.

“I won’t bug you about it, I promise,” I continue. “But just don’t close the door completely, okay? Not until you’re really sure.”

“Okay, Ella,” she agrees, giving me a little smile. “I won’t close it completely.”

We grin at each other for a second, but then I can’t help myself. I lean forward, eager. “So, did you and Doctor Hank kiss yet? Is he good at it?”

“Ella!” Cora exclaims, laughing. Then she grabs one of the pillows I threw at her and swings it playfully at my head.

 

Chapter 282

Ten days pass with agonizing slowness and I think I’m going to lose my mind.

On the morning of the eleventh day I just sit in my bed, staring passively at the tv, flicking through the channels and not even caring what comes on. I’ve seen it all, anyway.

It’s not that I haven’t tried to keep busy in bed. In fact, I’ve tried everything. I’ve sent email after email to all of the aid organizations I can think of, asking if there’s any way that I can help from home. They all came back with pleasant congratulations and urges for me to concentrate on my improved health. I scowled at each one of them as I deleted them and silently wondered if Sinclair had anything to do with it, just a quiet word to each of the organization heads that I wasn’t to be engaged until after the birth of my child.

When that fails, I try a variety of crafts I’ve always wanted to get into but have never had time for. But it turns out that knitting is crazy boring, and I’m a terrible painter, and I’ll never cut it as a novelist because I can’t stitch two words together. When hobbies failed, I tried educating myself, downloading a few language apps so I can become the polyglot I’ve always wanted to be.

But, I swear to god, if that little owl pops up on my phone one more time urging me to practice my French…

Well, let’s just say that while I’ve always braked for birds, I won’t be doing that anymore. (2)

So, now, it’s just me and this damn tv. And my brain slowly rotting to much as I sit here on bed“, rest.” Even though it’s bed torture.

And it’s not that Sinclair isn’t kind. We meet every night in the dream space, but in our waking hours he only has so much time. He’s working so hard to bring our people together, to unite human and wolf kind, and I don’t have the heart to tell him that I’m so bored I’ve tried to see how many Oreos I can stack on my forehead before they all come crashing down around me.

(Eighteen.)

I know that if I even gave him a hint that I was miserable, he’d drop everything and come to my side, entertain me, make me laugh. But what kind of queen would I be if I took him away from our people? I know that I have to be strong but…damn, it’s hard. Who would have thought that a charge through a shelled city towards a temple I could handle, but laying in bed for ten days is really the thing that takes me out?

The only real relief I find is when I am in the dream state, either with Sinclair or alone, so I spend as much time as I can sleeping or napping. I feel freest when it’s just me. I love my time with my mate, when we spend our night hours touching and holding each other in ways we can’t in the real world, but when I’m alone? I transform into my wolf and run –

I run through rivers and up the sides of mountains, feeling the snow crunch beneath my paws. I run through moonlit forests and drink from silver lakes. I sprint across deserts, the pads of my feet so swift they barely touch the sand. Sometimes, when I look over my shoulder, I see a little pup running along with me, giving little yips of satisfaction and joy. He’s not always there, but when he is, I feel my heart could burst from the joy of it.

But a girl can only sleep so much, especially when she’s got nothing to do all day but sit around.

So that’s what has landed me here, flipping through channel 826. Passively, I wonder what happens after I hit channel 999. Does it go back to 0? Or does it just go on…forever….

Suddenly I sigh and toss the remote across the bed, giving a little growl of aggravation.

Damn it, I need something to do. I’m a wolf, after all. We weren’t meant to lay in bed all day, passive. I have to get up, I have to move around and see things.

For the millionth time, I wrack my brain, trying to come up with a solution, wondering how the people I love would handle it. Cora, of course, would grit through it, the way she did med school – just putting her head down and enduring the unpleasantness, knowing the great reward is coming at the end. Sinclair…well, he would probably ignore the doctors and push forward with his life. And while that sounds amazing, I promised I wouldn’t.

I slump down against my pillows, running through all the people I know, when suddenly my mind alights on Sinclair’s father. Henry.

I gasp, inspired, and grab for my phone. As quickly as I can, I pull up his contact information and call him, crossing my fingers and praying that he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Henry!” I burst out. “Henry, I have a great idea. Can you help me out?”

A few hours later, the house is full of people.

“Yes, this is perfect,” I breathe, holding on to the service technician’s arm as he lifts me from the bed.

My head snaps up as I hear a ragged snarl rip across the room.

“Get your hands off my mate.” I hear Sinclair demand, his voice livid with a murderous threat. The technician spins and, when he sees the huge werewolf in front of him ready to rip his head off, starts to shake so hard he almost drops me.

“No!” I cry as the technician starts to put me back down on the bed. I point a finger in his face, giving him a harsh look and speaking in my best Luna voice. “Don’t you dare put me back in that bed. I will flip out.”

Torn, the technician whips his head between me and the doorway, not knowing what to do and fearing for his life either way.

Suddenly, Sinclair pulls me from the technician’s arms before I can say a word and holds me close against his chest. “Get out,” he growls at the man, his voice low. “And if I ever see you again – even once in your life –”

I hear the rapid patter of feet and know that he’s gone, but I try to peek around Sinclair’s shoulder anyway.

“Seriously!?” I cry, glaring up at him. “You had to scare him off like that?!”

“He had his hands on you, Ella,” Sinclair snarls, and I can see the rage still alight in his eyes. I smirk, a little pleased by his jealousy beyond my annoyance. Sinclair narrows his eyes at me for a moment and then looks to the side at the shiny new wheelchair sitting there, waiting for me.”

What the hell is all of this, Ella?”

“My salvation,” I say, beaming at the chair with love in my eyes, admiring its gleaming wheels and all of the buttons on its control board. “It’s state of the art – I’ll be able to –”

“Ella,” my mate snaps, drawing my attention back to him. “You were commanded to stay in bed.”

“This is bed–adjacent!” I cry, defiant. “It’s the same thing, basically! I sit up in bed, why can’t I sit in a chair!”

“That’s not the point,” he explains, angry. “You’re supposed to be resting, healing

“Dominic,” I interrupt, letting my face drop so that he can see the desperation beneath. “Please. This is…” I shake my head, hoping he will understand. “It is killing me to sit around all day doing nothing.

Please, Dominic. I won’t even leave the house. I just have to get out of bed.”

My mate pauses for a moment, staring down at me, his eyes softening. “Ella,” he says, working hard to keep his voice even. “If you were so miserable, why didn’t you tell me –”

But I just slowly shake my head and his words fall away. He knows why. He nods, understanding, and then heaves a big sigh, turning and carrying me out into the hall where workers are buzzing around at the staircase.

“And what are these ones doing?” He asks, yielding to me.

“They’re putting in my stairlift,” I reply, my eyes bright and my words breathless with wonder. Isn’t it amazing?”

“Ella,” he scolds, shaking his head at me. “What is all of this even going to do ”

“It’s easy!” I exclaim, feeling true enthusiasm for the first time in a week. “Your dad helped me set it up – just a chair upstairs, and a stairlift, and a chair downstairs, and I have full run of the house! It’s amazing, and I never have to get up! Even Doctor Hank and Cora said it was okay.”

Sinclair takes another deep breath, holding my gaze, but a huge smile bursts onto my face as I see him visibly give in.

“All right, trouble,” he murmurs, carrying me back into the bedroom where he places me gently in my new chair. “But I have a feeling that this is a terrible idea.”

“No! The best idea!” I cry, pressing the forward control on the chair and zooming out into the hall. “It’s going to be great!”

Immediately, I hear Sinclair skitter out into the hall after me when he hears the crashing sound that I make, totally by accident. His face is terrified

“Um,” I say, biting my lip and looking down at the poor broken vase I knocked on the floor. “You didn’t like that one…right?”

 

Chapter 283

A crash sounds upstairs. The second one today. I groan and put my head in my hand, honestly not wanting to know.

“Dominic?” I hear my mate call, requesting my assistance. I press my eyes shut, ignoring her for just… just one minute. “Dominic!”

“Seriously,” Roger murmurs, looking towards the door. “What were you thinking, letting her put this insane plan into action?”

I drop my hand and glare at my brother. “Ask me that again when you’re mated,” I murmur, steeling myself as I head out of the room. Roger doesn’t say anything as I go, though I feel his eyes on me. I ignore it.

“Ella?” I call from the base of the stairs. The seat of her stairlift is at the top, so she must be up there.

“Dominic!” Her faint voice comes to me, sounding relieved. “Can you come help? I’m…stuck.” I sigh and pull myself up the stairs.

Three days. Three days she’s had her wheelchairs and her stairlift, and while I’m pleased to see her spirits raised, it’s been a nightmare for me. Three days of watching her zoom around, crashing into every thing I own. I’ve already imagined six thousand ways this could go wrong – Ella sliding off of the stairlift and tumbling down the stairs, Ella somehow miraculously managing to run herself over with the chair, Ella crashing through the banister and flying through the air like Evil Knievel… 1

And you’d think that I was kidding, or exaggerating, but…

As I get to the top of the stairs, I turn to see her wedged, somehow, behind a potted fern in the corner.

“How did you even…do this?” I ask, exasperated, as I walk over to her.

She gives me a bright, if embarrassed, little smile. “I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I just…went forward, and it was there…”

I sigh again – my three hundredth sigh of the day and lift the plant, freeing her. She zooms backwards in the wheelchair, grinding potting soil from the plant into my carpet as she goes. I sigh again. Three hundred and one.

“What are you even do-” I start, but she’s off already, waving to me as she heads down the hall towards our bedroom.

“Things to do!” she calls, waving over her shoulder. “Go back to work, I’ll catch up with you later!”

I shake my head, following her into the bedroom, eager to put a stop to this. “Ella,” I demand, striding in after her. “This has to stop – I’m going insane with worry –”

“What!” she exclaims, appalled, turning her chair in a little half circle so that she’s facing me. Why are you worried?”

I pause, staring at her, my mouth hanging open a little with my incredulity.

“What?” she demands, frowning her pouty little mouth at me. “Tell me!”

I shake my head. “Ella, in the past three days you’ve broken hundreds of dollars‘ worth of ceramics alone –”

“Ceramics” she mutters, waving a flippant hand. “We can buy new pots who cares about that –

“Ella!” I insist and she snaps her gaze up at me. I groan again and wipe a hand down my face, trying to figure out how to say this. “Sweetheart, you know I love you…”

She cocks her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at me, sensing a “but” coming. I oblige her. But,” I continue, “baby, you’re the..you’re the worst wheelchair driver I’ve ever seen. I seriously don’t even know how you ever got a driver’s license, you are just so bad at

“What!” she screeches. “I am amazing at this! What are you talking about?!”

“Baby,” I plead, putting a hand on my heart. “Please, please believe me when I say this – and I love you – but you are awful at this –”

She laughs at me then and I can’t help but laugh with her. It’s so ridiculous. But I’m so grateful that she finally sees my point. Now I can convince her to give up –

“You’re just jealous,” she asserts, giving me a clever, wolfish grin.

My mouth drops open and I don’t even know what to say. Jealousy… has not even come into the equation. “Ella, seriously,” I begin, but she interrupts.

“Seriously!” she picks up. “If I were bad at this, could I do this?”

She spins her chair then in a quick circle that lifts one of the chair’s wheels off the ground. My stomach drops as I lurch forward, desperate to keep her from tipping over, but she just laughs at me as the chair rights itself, zooming out of my reach.

“Don’t do that!” I gasp, glaring at her.

“What!” she counters. “I’m fine- this chair can’t tip over, it’s built into the design

“If anyone can manage it,” I caution, “it’s you. Ella, please.”

“Dominic,” she sighs, shaking her head at me. “Don’t you think you’re being just a little overprotective? I mean, sure, I get stuck behind a potted plant or two.” She shrugs. “So what? I’m fine.” She gives me a

bright, happy smile, and I have to say it goes to my heart. It’s good to see her cheerful and engaged again. That’s why I let this go on as long as I did, but honestly? It’s enough.

She thinks I didn’t notice, the past week or so, how miserable she’s been. She thinks she hid it from me to let me go on with my work. But I noticed – of course I did, I could smell her misery on her, could feel it in my very bones. But I could also feel her pride every morning when she sent me off to start my day. In many ways that was the one thing keeping her together – the idea that she was doing this for the baby, and was letting me go for our people. That her misery was, in some way, an act of service for a greater good.

So I went, spending as little time on my work as I in good conscience could, and otherwise spending my time curled up with her, my troublesome little rose–gold mate.

I shake my head a little as I stare at her now, as she smiles up at me. My sweet, clever girl. How do I do this? How do I help her find the balance between misery and keeping herself safe?

“For today, then, Ella,” I say calmly, putting out a hand towards her. “Enough chair for the day… my nerves are absolutely at their end. Please. For me. I’ll come to bed – we’ll watch a movie –”

She pretends to consider it for a moment, tapping her chin as I take a step closer to her, intending to pick her up and carry her to bed. But then, at the last second, a wicked gleam comes into her eyes.

“Nope!” she quips, flicking her fingers over the command board and zooming past me, right out of my grasp.

“Ella!” I cry, growling as I turn to watch her fly out of the room.

“If you want to stop me,” she calls over her shoulder, “you’ll have to catch me!”

Something in me, despite myself, lights up at this little taunt. A growl grows inside of me as I launch myself after her, out into the hallway and to the top of the stairs where she’s already seated herself on the stairlift, buckling herself in.

When she sees me coming for her Ella gives a little half scream, half cry of laugher and delight, pressing the button on her stairlift frantically to make it go faster. Luckily, as it was built for the elderly, it has one speed: glacial. I catch her with ease.

“Oh no you don’t,” I burst out, taking two steps down the stairs so that I’m even with her and pressing the emergency–stop button on the lift. Ella gives another little cry, laughing hard and beating her little fists playfully against me as I unbuckle her belt and lift her up into my arms.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Roger below, peaking out of the office and looking up at us like we’re crazy. But I ignore him, carrying my mate definitively into the bedroom and laying her down on the bed. When she’s settled I climb onto the bed as well, settling over her but holding myself up on my elbows and my knees, effectually using my body as a cage.

“Big brute Alpha,” she pouts, poking me in the chest and wiggling disconsolately into the blankets. “Not letting me have any fun.”

I can’t help it. Looking down at my gorgeous mate, pouting up at me with those full lips, her full breasts heaving, her rose–gold hair spilled out around her…I’m instantly hard.

“You can have fun,” I glower, lowering myself until my face is closer to hers, dragging my nose along the skin of her cheek and taking a deep breath of her incredible scent. “You just can’t reenact Grand Theft Auto in our house.”

“I’m good at it,” she whines, crossing her arms and pretending to be madder than she is.

“You’re terrible at it,” I murmur, mimicking her voice. “And you’re forbidden from using the chair again until I can get my dad over here to give you some lessons.”

“Forbidden?” she smirks, flicking her eyes over me, not failing to note the new hardness she feels pressed against her swollen stomach. “And what will you do to me if I… break the rules?”

“Punishment,” I snarl, bringing my mouth close to hers, “will be swift. And without mercy.” I lift one of my hands and slowly side it down the length of her body, stopping only when I have a full handful of her ass.

And suddenly, her mouth is pressed to mine, gasping, pulling me down to her. She pulls a moan from me and I fall to my side, ever–conscious of the baby and not wanting to crush him though all I want to do is flatten myself against her, pin her beneath me until she’s gasping with want for me.

Our kiss deepens and my mate pulls me against her, wrapping her legs around me and running the sharp edge of her teeth over my lips, wiping my mind of any thought but her – her naked, laid out before me – her soft lips wrapped around my cock – her –

“Sinclair,” she gasps, pulling her face back from mine, and I freeze as I see fear on her face. “I – I think we should stop

Panting, I pull back and take a minute to come back to reality. Suddenly, I’m horrified at myself for letting it go this far. I nod as well. “I’m – I’m sorry, sweetheart –”

“No,” she says, giving me a flash of a bright smile and shaking her head. “It’s okay – it’s wonderful – I just…” she bites her lip. “If we go any further, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop. And the baby…”

I groan, rolling onto my back and covering my face with my hand, knowing that she’s right. Slowly, I nod my head, feeling guilty. God damn it, but she’s just so… I can’t help wanting to touch her, feel her –

hell, wanting to bury myself deep inside her, if I’m being honest, whenever she’s around. Her body, her scent, her being all of it just sings to me.

Ella presses her body up against mine, nestling her head against my chest and heaving a sigh. I feel her relax, though, and work hard to even my breathing, forcing my muscles to ungrip. We stay that way for a few long moments, her tracing her fingers lightly over my stomach, me wishing despite myself, even though I wish I didn’t that she’d let that hand drift just a little lower…

“It’s going to be a long three months…” she murmurs, and I feel her shake her head slowly.

“Two and a half,” I breathe, the words coming from between my teeth. I drop my hand and raise myself to glare at her belly a little. “Two and a half, kid, okay? And then you’re out of there. And then I’m taking my mate back.”

Ella laughs, pressing a kiss to my chest as I rest my head back against the pillow.

Two and a half months, I think. That’s it.

And then all of my dreams would come true.

 

Chapter 284

One and a half months later, and I’m gigantic.

Gigantic.

“Five months wolf pregnant,” I mutter, stirring my yogurt with a little silver spoon, “is about thirteen months human pregnant.” Leaning back against my pillows, I raise the spoon to my mouth, but hesitate before taking a bite.

“What?” Sinclair asks, glancing at me from his spot on the bed, where he’s reading some reports on his tablet. “Has it gone sour?”

“No,” I murmur, stabbing the spoon back into the cup. “I’m just afraid if I eat another bite, this baby is going to get even bigger.”

“Good!” Sinclair declares, grinning at my swollen belly and reaching out a fond hand to rub my baby bump. “Let him get big and strong before he’s born, that way he can come out running and we can play football within a week

“Absolutely not,” I snap, giving him a little glare and hoping to hell that he’s kidding. “I am not growing you a linebacker, Dominic, so get that right out of your head.”

Sinclair chuckles and puts his tablet aside, moving lower on the bed to press his ear to my. stomach just above where the baby has settled. “What’s that, little Rafe?” he asks, loud enough for me to hear. I twist my lips and shake my head a little, knowing this is all for my benefit anyway. If he wanted to talk to Rafe, he could just do it through his bond. “You’re perfectly comfortable in there and want to go to full term so you can get big and strong?” –

I feel the baby move, then, responding to his father’s voice, pressing some extremity – a hand or a foot – across my skin, right where Sinclair’s face is. Sinclair kisses the spot where the baby presses and I feel a little thrill of Rafe’s happiness running through me.

“Tell him it’s not true, Rafe,” I say aloud, stroking the sides of my stomach, which looks honestly like I’ve swallowed a giant watermelon. “Tell him you’re cramped in there, and would like to stretch out in your comfy little baby bed.”

Rafe connects with both of us then, his emotions ringing with happiness, but, indeed, with a little … pinched feeling, with the desire to stretch. “See?” I say, raising my eyebrow at Sinclair as he looks up at me with a big smile. “He’s sick of it too. Time for baby to be born!”

“Well,” Sinclair sighs, sitting up and giving my belly one last pat. “We’ll see what Cora and Hank say this afternoon at your checkup. Sometimes wolf babies come sooner than six months.”

“Really?” I ask, excited.

“Sure,” he shrugs. “It’s not common, but…”

“Well,” I consider aloud, “maybe since he’s one quarter moon goddess…he’ll come fast, and leave me in peace. I wonder what their average gestation period is…”

Sinclair just laughs, coming to my side and putting out his hands to help me to my feet. I accept readily and head to the closet, eager to get out of my pajamas and head to this appointment.

I smile secretly at my mate as he heads back to flop onto the bed, continuing his work while I get ready. He’s been so sweet and supportive, even though I’ve been a bit miserable for the past two weeks, but especially this last one. There’s been some trouble, I know, with human insurgents who are unhappy with how well the peace talks are going. They think that humans are getting the short end of the stick and are threatening violence unless Sinclair and his teams make more concessions. I know it’s

stressing him, but he still makes a great deal of time for me in his day. I’m so grateful for him, for my sweet attentive mate.

As I pull on a clean top and stretchy pants, I consider whether I complain too much about this final stretch of my pregnancy. It’s not that it’s not that I’m not enjoying being pregnant – I have loved every minute of feeling my little boy grow stronger inside of me, every little twist and kick, and especially feeling the little messages he sends down our bond to me. He’s gotten so communicative lately, really responding to us like a little baby might telling us how he feels and what he wants.

―

It’s all been so wonderful. It’s just…I am so uncomfortable now. I’ve always been a petite woman, and even though Rafe was little at the start, it’s very clear that he’s Sinclair’s baby now. He is heavy, and he presses on my back, and my ankles are swollen, and I can’t find a comfortable spot when I sleep – even in my nest…

So, I admit that I’m a bit torn. As much as I love being pregnant, and I’m so happy and grateful for it, it in many ways feels like the end of a wonderful vacation where you start to think about how nice it will be to go back home. I sigh and lean down to pick out a pair of sneakers but stop, suddenly, when I realize that I can’t bend down far enough over my belly to grab them. So I straighten, glare at the shoes, and then kick them out of the closet so that they spill onto the floor of our bedroom.

When I peek out the door, Sinclair is looking towards the closet, his eyebrows raised.

“Can you get those?” I ask with a big smile. “I need you to put them on my feet. Baby says no more bending.”

My mate gives a warm chuckle and obliges me, coming to scoop up the shoes as I go to sit on the bed. “Sure thing, Cinderella,” he smirks, kneeling down on one knee and lifting one of my feet up like the prince he is. “Let’s see if the slipper fits.”

When we get to the doctor’s office, the receptionist gives us a big smile and takes us right back to a private exam room. I look around the crowded waiting room, opening my mouth to protest that we shouldn’t be seen before all of these women who have been so patient, but Sinclair presses a hand to my back, ushering me forward. “I paid for this place, after all,” he murmurs, giving me a smile. “You can accept just a little special treatment, just this once.”

I hesitate but then let him herd me along, looking back over my shoulder and feeling guilty. It’s true, though Sinclair brokered a deal with both Cora and Hank to have them on call for me at all times throughout the pregnancy. And, after Rafe is born, they’ll be our personal physicians for our whole family. In exchange, though, they both requested that he set them up in private practice so that they can see refugee clients for free when we didn’t need them. Judging by the swell of people in the lobby, they seem to be taking the latter half of the deal quite seriously.

My train of thought is interrupted by the sound of my sister calling a greeting to me, rushing down the hall to wrap me in a hug. “Ella!” she says, pulling back and looking me up and down.‘ Wow, you’re huge!”

“Thanks,” I grimace, rolling my eyes and rubbing a hand over my stomach. “Just what every

woman wants to hear when she walks into a room.

Cora gives Sinclair a nod of greeting and takes me by the arm. “It’s different when you’re pregnant and visiting your doctor who is your sister,” she says, giving me a grin and taking me into the exam room/“We get cart blanche to say whatever we want.”

“If you say so,” I mumble, hoisting myself up onto the exam table with a helping hand from Sinclair.

Cora begins the standard exam, asking me for details of how I’m feeling, if there have been any issues. I report that everything has been fine, just general pregnancy discomfort which I think is normal for the

later months of a pregnancy. She nods and listens to the baby in my belly, taking my vitals and generally assessing the baby’s growth. Hank comes into the room as she works, nodding warmly to Sinclair and to me. When Cora is done, he performs his own basic exam of my general health as Cora gets the ultrasound machine working, ready to take a look at the baby.

“I

All is going well until Cora puts the jelly on my belly and starts to move the wand around, looking at Rafe on the screen and taking some measurements. I’m smiling at the image of my baby, so well - formed and big and real on the screen when he was just a little blip a few months ago! But I snap my eyes to my sister when I hear her gasp.

“Ella,” she says, turning to me and biting her lip.

“What,” I whisper, my eyes going wide. “What’s wrong with my baby?”

 

Chapter 285

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head quickly and realizing her mistake. “I’m so sorry, Ella – I didn’t mean to scare you – he’s just…” she turns again to the monitor, shaking her head at what she sees.

“Cora!” I shout, sitting up fast and grabbing her by the shoulder. “Tell me! Now!”

Sinclair is at my side instantly, a warm hand on my back as he peers down at the monitor. Hank likewise turns his head to the screen, curious.

“The baby is just huge,” Cora breathes, in awe. “If these measurements are right…” she shakes her head, looking up at Hank. “I mean, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

Hank leans forward, considering, and then his eyes likewise go wide. He stands up and leans back, crossing his arms. “She’s right. That is a big baby.”

My breath starts to come short as I look frantically between the screen, my doctors, and my mate before finally settling on my stomach. Oh my god. Is he really huge? Was my idea that he was as big as a watermelon actually true? Is he so big that he’s going to be too large to come out, and so he’ll have to just stay in there until I explode –

–

“Don’t freak out, Ella,” Hank says, drawing my eyes up to his calm face. “It’s nothing drastic yet. Just… a big baby.”

“That’s a little bit of an understatement, Hank,” Cora says, glancing up at him. “Only a man would, say that a twelve pound baby, not even at full term, is nothing drastic

”

“I’m just saying,” Hank interrupts smoothly, professionally, keeping his eyes on me, “that the baby’s size is at this point no risk to himself or to you – which is really the important thing. Many women – even petite women, like yourself – have delivered twelve pound babies before.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, glaring down at my stomach. “But I’m sure they didn’t enjoy the experience.”

“She’s not even at full term yet, though,” Sinclair says, and I look up to see a worried frown on his face as he looks between Cora and Hank. “If the baby is twelve pounds now, in a month he’ll be…”

“Godzilla,” Cora murmurs unhelpfully, still staring at the screen and moving the wand around on my belly, assessing Rafe’s condition. I give her a little kick and she tosses a smirk in my direction

I ignore her and bite my lip, worried. “Seriously, if he continues to grow at this rate,” I fret, looking between my doctors, “what does that mean a month from now?”

“Well,” Hank says, considering me seriously. “If the baby gets too large to deliver naturally, we’ll consider a cesarian. But I think everyone in this room agrees that a natural birth would be preferable Cora?” He continues, passing her the proverbial baton. “What do you think?”

“I think…” she says, giving the screen one last glance and then looking at me and Sinclair. Honestly, guys, I think this muffin is baked. When I look at that screen, everything I see suggests a full-term baby ready to go. I am not as familiar with wolf deliveries as I’d like to be, but if you were a human woman I’d say that you were nine months pregnant and ready to pop at any

moment.”

Hank nods. “I agree. I’ve been reading up on wolf pregnancies and found that six months is more

of a deadline than an expectation. I think that your child could be born any day now and, from what we see in the exam, we have every reason to expect that it will be a healthy delivery.” He gives us a wide smile and Cora joins him. “Congratulations, Alpha and Luna. You’re about to be parents.”

I sit up straight, a thrill running through me both at the anticipation that I could meet my baby soon and that this pregnancy could be done. “Really,” I breathe, looking at them with shining eyes. “Any day now?”

Hank nods happily. “You’ve done beautifully, Ella – your bed rest these past months has really allowed your body to heal and Rafe to grow. I’d say you’re just about as strong as any mom ready to give birth to her first baby. I think you can look to the next steps with confidence.”

I look up at Sinclair, then, my face alive with my happiness. He puts a broad hand on my cheek, bringing his face down to mine and placing a swift kiss on my lips. “You’re a miracle, Ella,” he

whispers, sweeping his hand back to tuck my hair behind my ear. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

—

My eyes fill with tears at my sudden happiness, my love for my mate, my child, our soon-to-be

family. The entire pregnancy has been so full of anxiety – to be able to come into the final days of it happy, healthy, and confident…

It’s just such a blessing. And I don’t know what I’ve done to earn it. 1

“Congratulations, sis,” Cora says, taking my hand and beaming at me. I give her hand a squeeze in return and use my other hand to wipe the tears from my eyes as Sinclair straightens up next to

me, his hand still confidently on my back.

“Thanks,” I say, laughing my relief. “Thank both of you, so much, for your care. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Well, we’re not finished yet,” Hank replies practically, studying me. “Ella, considering that your baby is fully grown and ready to go, you might consider…”

“What?” I ask when he pauses, cocking my head curiously.

“Well, for your own comfort,” he continues, “you might consider some… traditional methods. Of moving the pregnancy along. A twelve-pound baby is a large baby, and if he gets any bigger…” Hank looks to Cora for support.

“He’s right,” Cora says, looking from Hank to me. “We don’t want to do a cesarian if we can avoid it, and we can always induce early if it comes to that, but it’s always best for both mother and child if the mother’s body goes into labor of its own free will. But, there are some folk remedies which can encourage that…” she begins to smirk.

“Like what?” I ask, frowning, trying to remember.

“You can take castor oil,” she suggests slowly, her smile growing. “Or eat some spicy foods. Go for a long walk.”

My eyes light up at the idea of a walk – god, I’ve been on bed rest for so long, the idea now that I could take a walk sounds amazing –

“Or,” she continues, her smile now a grin, “you could…have s*x.”

“What?” I breathe, my eyes going wide. I feel Sinclair tense next to me, his body going perfectly still.

Cora nods slowly, starting to laugh a little as she glances between us. “Yup. It’s perhaps the most tried- and-true method to start labor. And considering that Ella’s body is healthy, and the baby is ready to go,”

she shrugs, looking up at Hank for confirmation. “I don’t see any reason not to.”

Hank nods, clearing his throat and looking out the window, apparently eager to avoid eye contact with us. “Yup,” he says briskly, suddenly very interested in a squirrel outside running up the trunk of a tree. “I see no reason to abstain any further, if you’re -”

But there’s no reason for him to finish his sentence, because Sinclair and I are already gone.

 

Chapter 286

The minute Hank gave his assent, Sinclair was moving, gathering me up into his arms and striding for the clinic’s door. We drew quite a few eyes on our way out – a gigantic man carrying a little pregnant woman bodily out of the doctor’s office, and her laughing with glee all the way. But I didn’t care. I ignored them all, pressing myself close to Sinclair, eager for his warmth and his comfort and his love.

We don’t say a word to each other on the ride home. Instead, I stare out the car’s windshield with Sinclair’s hand grasped in my own, my breath coming in short pants. My mind wanders back and forth between the thoughts of my child and my pregnancy, and the thought of my mate –

My mate his hard–muscled body, which I’ve wanted for weeks but haven’t even dared to touch outside of the dream space, for fear of losing control. Of his mouth, hot on mine, of his thick, hard cock, pressing against me, slipping inside me and

“You have to stop,” Sinclair growls, glancing at me as he speeds through traffic, weaving in and out of slower cars with expert grace. “I can feel what you’re thinking – I can smell it – and if you don’t stop I’m going to pull this car over right here

“Do it,” I dare, smirking at him, squeezing his hand hard. “Pull the car over, Dominic.” Then, I let his hand go and lean forward, slipping my hand onto the soft wool of his suit pants, moving it slowly upwards.

“God damn it, Ella,” Sinclair growls, snatching my hand away and glancing a glare at me. “We didn’t come this far to die in a car crash.”

I just smirk, settling back in my seat and closing my eyes, pressing my legs together against the steady ache that’s growing there. Then, I lean my head back and let my mind wander, thinking about all the things I’m going to do to him the moment I get him in bed…

Sinclair’s snarl rips through the car.

The door to our house bangs open and I see one of our housemaids start in surprise as Sinclair storms through it, me in his arms. I barely manage to shoot her an apologetic look before Sinclair heads for the stairs, taking them two at a time. He moves with an agile grace, faltering only when I lean forward to press a kiss to his neck. He gives me a dirty look for torturing him, one that makes my stomach twist in anticipation, and then kicks our door open, heading straight for the bed.

Things slow down as we get there, though. Sinclair takes a moment to hold me close, lifting my face to his and kissing me deeply, as if never wanting to put me down. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back, letting him feel my joy at being able to hold him again, to be with his body the way that feels right to me, to let him feel my hunger and my desire. After a moment, though, Sinclair kicks the door shut behind us and lays me gently on the bed.

Then, he strips off his shirt and I get a good look at everything that I’ve been missing.

My eyelids drift low as I take in my mate, the rippling muscles of his pecs and abs, the broad

shoulders and the tight, tapered waist. God damn it, but I want to run my tongue over every tortured inch of him.

“So, Alpha boss,” I tease, leaning back on my elbows and pressing my legs primly together. “What do you want to do now?”

Sinclair becomes a feral thing, a predator looking carefully at his prey, deciding precisely how he wants to pounce. He grips his belt, tugging it loose in a single jerk and pushing the waist of his pants so that they fall to the floor, his shorts going with them. And then he’s standing naked before me, his proud cock rigid and eager.

Then, he moves, coming forward onto the bed, crawling over me as he did the last time we were close like this, making his body a cage over me, one from which I have absolutely no desire to escape. As he closes the space between us, I feel my pulse rachet up even further, watching him move with unending slowness above me.

And suddenly, I realize that this is his game, and I smirk. I tortured him in the car, and now he’s paying me back, making me wait while he lingers above me. The wolf in me rises to the bait, giving a snarl as I pull his face down to mine, claiming him. Mine mine mine.

He melts, then, giving in, his arms almost collapsing as he gives his body what it desires, which is to be close to me, with me, now. I twist to the side, not wanting him to crush me beneath him, and Sinclair lands next to me on the bed as I opening my mouth to him completely, letting him explore me with his tongue as I gasp and moan.

Sinclair’s hands move fast now, quickly moving to my hips to shove my stretchy leggings down. He breaks his mouth away from me for a moment to tug the fabric free of my legs and ankles, and then briskly pulls my shirt and my bra up over my head in a flash. I laugh as he works, as eager as he is to be free of these materials, to feel him on every inch of me instead of the cotton that I’ve had pressed against my skin for weeks.

–

He growls through clenched teeth as he tosses the clothing away and I press my body fully against his or, at least, as close as I can get, with my gigantic stomach in my way. But I feel absolutely no shame or hesitation, which surprises me. I had always thought that I wouldn’t feel s*xy pregnant, with a big belly and swollen ankles making my body feel unfamiliar. But with the way Sinclair runs his hand along the length of me now – cupping my fully breast eagerly in his palm, moving his hand over the expanse of my body and dipping around my back to grip my ass – I feel so alive, and womanly, and desired. (1)

The hard, eager throb of Sinclair’s cock against my leg only confirms this feeling, deepening it, as Sinclair repositions me, turning me so that my back is to him while I lay on my side.

“I can’t wait any more, Ella,” he murmurs, pressing kisses along my shoulder and neck, taking a moment to run the edge of his sharp teeth against my tender skin and making me shiver with anticipation. “I can’t not be inside of you right. f*cking. now.”

I press my backside against him, letting him know I’m ready, and he slips a hand between my legs, my assent confirmed by the wetness that coats his fingers as he strokes me, making me ready for him. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and I shiver with pleasure as he moves his hand to his cock to spread my wetness there. “I’ve been starving for you for weeks.”

 

Chapter 287

“Liar,” I murmur, glancing at him over my shoulder as he positions himself against my center, running his head up and down my s*x, teasing me. “You haven’t been starving. You’ve been f*cking me in my dreams. Wasn’t that enough to keep the hunger at bay?”

He chuckles lowly, bringing his cock back to my center and slowly beginning to press into me.” You tell me,” he says, gasping as he goes. “When I f*ck you in your dreams, does it feel anything like this?

And suddenly I’m gasping too as he starts to fill me, my vision flooded with stars as I press my eyes shut and moan into the fabric of my pillow. Every inch of him stretches me, feeling like an unending fullness as I feel the swell of his head making room for the rest of him on its path deeper inside me. The sensation rips through me like a storm, the pleasure of it and my hips buck against him, urging him on, needing more

Sinclair gives a rough shudder as he finishes seating his length deep inside me. Then, he rocks his hips back, making me groan anew to feel him pull out an inch, and then slam again home. Sinclair wraps himself closer around me, one hand finding my breast as he repeats the action again and again, a rough, feral pounding over which neither of us have control. The sensation builds in me as his other hand slips over my hip, pressing against my swollen and greedy clit, and I cry out as he presses me there, increasing his pace as he does.

“I’m sorry,” he grits through his teeth, completely undone by the intensity of this after months of wanting, and abstaining, and holding back. “F*ck, Ella, I’m sorry – I can’t last – you’re so f*cking

–

And then he gives a final spasm and a cry and I feel him spill loose in me, the sensation warm and thick and rich, and the thought of it – of him bursting thick spurts of hot cum inside of me – makes me spill over, my orgasm making me rock my hips back hard against him, forcing him deeper against that favorite place inside of me that makes me shake and shiver.

We lay there for awhile, spent, my back pressed against his chest, panting quietly. “Ella,” he whispers after a moment, my name barely audible on his breath. “Are you…are you all right?”

I nod my head, my eyes closed, letting my body feel the afterthought of the shivers that still run through me from head to toe.

“No,” he says, shaking my shoulder a bit. “I mean…the baby.”

My eyes fly open at the idea and I look down at myself, quickly assessing…

But…

“No,” I groan, suddenly disappointed. “No, no change, Dominic,” I whisper, turning to give him a little pout. “He’s still…in there. Determined never to come out.”

“Well then,” my mate growls, turning my face further to him and giving me a feral grin. “We’ll just have to keep trying.”

I sigh as I smile and can tell that Sinclair understands my emotions. It’s so wonderful to be able to be with my mate like this again, but if the point of all this to somehow shake this baby loose? “I don’t know, Sinclair,” I say, running a hand over my stomach. “I’m not feeling anything like labor. I think we’re going to be in this for the long haul.”

He gives a little happy shrug, unperturbed at the idea. “Fine by me,” he murmurs, beginning to kiss his way down my body. “Just gives me more time to enjoy these s*xy curves, while you’ve still got them.”

I laugh a little, awash with happiness as my mate kisses his way down my body. I suppose he’s right though – even if we do have weeks to wait, at least we can give the term “bed rest” a better definition.

—

We both go to bed a few hours later, sated and content after a long afternoon of being pressed close to one another. It’s not all s*x – though, of course, some of it is. But a great deal of our time is spent just holding each other close, letting our bodies fall into their old rhythms together, our breath and heartrates aligning in a way they haven’t been able to do for weeks.

I drift off into my dream space feeling totally comfortable, not needing to invite Sinclair in tonight because I know he’ll be there waiting for me when I wake up. It’s not that I don’t want him there tonight it’s just…a peaceful beat, where he dreams his dreams and I have mine to myself, separate but together. My body at ease, I eagerly drift off, anticipating my first night of deep rest in a very long time.

So it surprises me, a few hours later, when I wake to a deep ache in my lower back. I give a little moan of discomfort, twisting my aching muscles to ease them, but I only feel the ache grow deeper. I gasp a little as a sharp pain runs through me, starting in my middle and then radiating through my body. I frown down at my belly, running my hands over it, wondering what’s up. Is it something I ate?…

Because of all things, it feels like…well, like I’m very gassy, maybe? Or starting my period? 1

The pain fades, though, and I drift off to sleep for a little while longer.

I’m wrenched almost to a seated position, however, about ten minutes later when the ache begins again, this time deep and echoing through my muscles. I give a little gasping cry as the pain continues through my back and travels down the inside of my thighs.

Sinclair wakes next to me, sitting up and putting a hand on my shoulder. “Ella?” he asks, worried.

“I’m okay,” I murmur, giving him a look over my shoulder, rubbing my stomach. “I just think that

“I

“What?” he presses, worried.

“Well,” I say, turning and smiling at him. “Maybe that our afternoon wasn’t such a waste after all.” I give him a big smile and let him press his hands against my stomach.

“Really?” he breathes, staring down at my abdomen, fascinated. Then he looks up at me, curious. Did you ask the baby?”

I laugh a little and shake my head, the ache and the pressure in my lower stomach fading a little. “No,” I say. “I didn’t think to.” Then, I close my eyes and reach for the baby. I can tell, immediately, that he’s uncomfortable and eager for change. Not in a bad way, just…

“Wow,” I say, my eyes flying open and taking in Sinclair’s serious face. His eyes are closed as he too reaches out to Rafe, trying to figure out how he feels. Then, Sinclair’s eyes open and he gives me a big smile.

”

“I think you’re right,” my mate whispers. “I think he’s ready.”

My face breaks into a big excited grin. I expect my mate to return it but he leaps suddenly from the bed, rushing to the closet. “Where are you going?” I ask, confused.

“I’m getting the hospital bag!” he calls to me. “We have to go!”

I laugh a little at his panic. “Sinclair,” I call, holding out a hand to him as he comes out of the closet, the bag in his hand and a look of panic on his face. “We have time – the contractions are still far apart.”

“How far apart?” he asks, suspicious.

“I don’t know,” I say, looking down at myself. “But they just started, and they don’t hurt a lot yet. It takes some women hours

”

“You’re not a human, Ella,” Sinclair says, coming to my side. “Wolves are different.”

“Are they faster?” I ask looking up at him, suddenly worried and wishing I’d thought to ask Hank about this.

Sinclair runs a hand through his hair, glancing anxiously towards the door. “I don’t know,” he responds. I lean over and take his hand, pulling on it, dragging his attention back to me.

“Let’s time them,” I say, a little excited. “And we’ll text Cora and Hank. I’d rather be here, after all, comfortable in my bed, if it’s going to take a whole day for the baby to come.”

“Ella…” he hesitates.

“Please, Dominic,” I say, smiling up at him. “It’s just a few minutes to time the contraction. What’s the worst that can happen?”

 

Chapter 288

I sigh, sitting down on the bed next to my mate, giving her a significant look as I humor her. She grabs her phone, eagerly pulling up the clock timer and never taking her other hand off her stomach.

“Okay,” she murmurs, looking down at herself. “Well, this contraction has been over for a little bit,” she looks up at me. “Should we just wait for the next one to start the timer and time between that one and the next?”

I breathe out in a huff, closing my eyes and working very hard to control my anxiety and be patient. “Just start the clock and add two minutes to the time, Ella,” I beg. “Please.”

“Okay,” she says. Then I feel her hand on my cheek and I open my eyes to look down into her sweet, excited face. “It’s going to be okay, Dominic. You heard Hank. I’m strong – there’s no reason to rush off to the hospital yet.”

“There’s no reason not to,” I retort, giving her an even stare. But my little mate just wiggles herself closer to me, pressing herself warm against my side. I lower my head to her hair, my heart still beating fast with anxiety and anticipation, and take a deep breath of her warm scent. She’s right, at least a little – there’s no harm in waiting just a few minutes. As I work on my patience, I hear Ella clicking away on her phone.

“Okay,” she chirps. “I texted Cora she’s up, she says she’ll meet us there when we’re ready. But she says to text her the time between contractions when we’ve got it. She also says it could be false labor,” Ella notes, looking up at me with an interested expression. “Since it’s so early. So, we might be panicking for nothing.”

I murmur something back – I honestly don’t know what and wrap my arm around her, concentrating on being steady next to her, where she needs me. Ella is excited, but deep down I know that she’s anxious

as well – how could she not be? Throughout this nightmare of a pregnancy, something’s gone wrong at every turn. I know that, like me, she’s on pins and needles, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The next few minutes are torture for me. Every instinct in me tells me to get up and move, to prepare, to do something. I could go start the car, have it ready and pointed out to the street so that we can go the moment she’s ready. I could double–check this hospital bag, although Ella’s packed and re–packed it twelve times. I could go rip that ridiculous stairlift right out of the wall, now that we don’t need it anymore,…

That, at least, would give me some satisfaction and burn off some of this anxious energy….

But, despite that impulse, I stay right here by my mate’s side, where she needs me. There’s no place else I’d dare to be.

“Ohhh,” Ella says suddenly, her hand sliding low on her belly as she closes her eyes tightly.” Okay,” she breathes. “I think this is…another one.”

I grab her phone off the bed next to her. Eight minutes. “Ella,” I snip, “your contractions are only ten minutes apart. Please.”

“Ten minutes,” she says, frowning at the phone. “How is that possible, they just started –”

“Ella,” my voice is low with warning and anxiety now. “Please we’re going

“Fine,” she says, raising her eyebrows at me and putting her feet on the floor. “I think it’s too early but oohhhh,” she winces, shuddering with pain and pressing her eyes closed.

“What is it,” I breathe, leaning close and taking her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…sharp…” she says, her teeth gritted. “Ow, I didn’t think it would hurt this bad so early…”

“Enough,” I growl, scooping her up in my arms, my heart pounding. I head for the door but she stops me, slapping my shoulder.

“The bag!” she cries, and I spin, squatting down to grab it and then leaping from the room in one swift action. I pound down the hall, eagerly headed for the stairs. As I begin down them, though, Ella gives a sharp gasp and convulses in my arms, freeze, holding her close, my eyes tracing the pained lines of her face.

“Ella,” I gasp, terrified. But there’s nothing I can do I just hold her until she stops, until she opens her eyes and looks shocked into my face and then down at her belly, her face going white.

“Down,” she demands. “Put me down. Something…something happened.”

Ella

I’m still wrapped in his arms as Sinclair jolts back into action, hurrying to the bottom of the stairs where he can put me down. I feel a sudden wetness between my legs, a sticky warmth that…)

G*d damn it, all I can think of is the blood that I saw all over me on the temple steps when I’d nearly lost the baby, when I was so weak and exhausted

What if –

Did something go horribly wrong –

Sinclair reaches the bottom of the stairs as I cling to his shoulders, panic racing through me. He places me down steadily on my feet and I look down at myself, trying as best I can in the darkness to assess what I see –

“Light!” I call, wiping my hand down my legs, trying to assess –

Sinclair is instantly in action, flicking on the hall switch. Frantic, I look down at my hand but see …clear.

There’s liquid on my hand, but it’s clear. I give a frantic little laugh as I stare at my hand and then down at my soaked pajama shorts.

“Ella,” Sinclair gasps, taking me by my shoulders and making me look up at him, “Ella, please what’s wrong – what’s happening –”

“My water broke,” I explain, still laughing, a little hysterical with relief. “I’m all wet – because my water broke

“Oh my g*d,” he murmurs, slumping back against the wall and putting a hand to his head. “Ella – I thought –”

“It’s going to be all right,” I say, coming forward and wrapping my arms around his waist. Sinclair, we’re going to make it. I think – I think we’re both just really freaked out, and traumatized, by everything that we’ve been through.”

He opens his eyes and looks at me then, shaking his head a little.

“But from here on out?” I insist, looking at him with full confidence. “Everything is going to work out. Easy as pie. And soon we’ll have our baby.”

He smiles at that, pausing his frantic energy for a second to brush my cheek with his finger and lean down and kiss me. But it doesn’t last long. “You’re right, trouble,” he murmurs, pulling away.” But if it’s all right with you, I’ll calm the hell down when we’ve got you safe and sound in a hospital bed.”

“All right,” I say, nodding. “But, um,” I pause, and bite my lip, a little embarrassed. “Can you run upstairs first, and get me a change of pants? I can’t…I can’t leave the house like this. I look like I peed myself.”

Sinclair sighs, rolling his eyes, but he sprints up the stairs as fast as he can to get me a change of clothes.

Five minutes later, we’re in the car and on our way, me breathing deeply as I feel another contraction start to come on. I ride through the pain of it, Sinclair giving me worried glances as I do, but the pain passes. We are quiet, Sinclair concentrating on the road, and me on relaxing between contractions, which…damn it, are they speeding up?

The streets are mostly clear as we drive through the city – everyone’s asleep now, anyway, and I close my eyes and try to relax, breathing deeply in anticipation of the pain that starts to flare in my back, the contraction that I know is about to rock through me.

Just as I feel the deep pulse of the pain begin, though, my eyes fly open as I hear Sinclair curse.

“What “I start, but the car twists suddenly to the side, skidding to a stop. And then, I scream.

 

Chapter 289

The sound of gunfire rings out around us and I feel Sinclair lurch to cover me in the suddenly- still car. Trembling, I try to peek out from beneath his arm as he curses vehemently, his body tense over mine.

The gunfire ends and Sinclair moves, jolting back to the driver’s seat and hitting the gas, spinning the car and heading away from the bullhorn that’s suddenly blasting words in our direction.

“What’s happening?!” I shout, begging for information, doubled over in pain as my body continues its contractions, not caring about the fact that we’re suddenly, apparently, in a war zone.

“The insurgents,” Sinclair growls, glancing over his shoulder. “Picked fucking tonight to push forward with their rebellion – god damn it –”

I glance over my shoulder as well, suddenly seeing a road block in the middle of the street with figures standing behind it, wearing masks and holding guns.

“Humans?” I ask, desperate. “Who don’t want peace?”

Sinclair nods sharply, spinning the car around the city’s center square. I look around suddenly – hadn’t known where we were my eyes fixing on the temple, the palace, these familiar places I haven’t seen in weeks – since

Quickly, I dismiss the thoughts from my mind, not letting myself go there. “Can we go back? Can we get out of it?”

“No,” he growls, speeding across the square and skidding to a stop in front of the palace. “They’ll have us boxed in by now, and they saw my face. God damn it, I should have seen this coming. They’ll come after us now – we have to get you inside.”

With that, Sinclair jumps out of the car, coming quickly to my side and pulling my door open. I step out and he lifts me quickly into his arms, charging forward to the palace. There are guards waiting at the door who look at us with shock and surprise.

“Alpha,” the guard says. “We weren’t expecting

“Let us in,” Sinclair growls, barely stopping to let his command register and ready to burst through the door if the guard doesn’t open it in time, which, fortunately, he does. “Barricade this entrance all of the entrances – get as many guards here as you can, and let no one in except at my command. Is that clear?”

–

The guard nods quickly, all business, ready to follow through on Sinclair’s commands. As soon as we’re in the dark palace, though, I open my mouth, letting out the sharp cry I’ve been holding back. This contraction – it’s horrible, sharper than the others, and fast –

“Sinclair,” I pant, looking up at him. “The baby is coming – we have to get to a hospital –

”

He shakes his head at me, looking horribly repentant as he pounds up the wide marble stairs. I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “We can’t go anywhere until we know it’s safe.”

”

“Then what are we…” I look around, not recognizing what part of the palace we’re in now. But,

apparently, Sinclair knows where he’s going, throwing his shoulder into doors and bursting through them until, quite suddenly, we’re in a beautiful bedroom with a wide four–posted bed with blue velvet curtains hanging down from a rich canopy.

Sinclair slows now and I look around the sumptuous room in awe as he carefully places me on the bed. “Well,” he says, grimacing a little, apology still in his eyes. “A King’s bedroom is as good as any a place for Rafe to be born, don’t you think?”

“Is that where we are?” I wonder aloud, still panting as I look around, the shock of the situation allowing me to ignore my pain for just a moment.

Sinclair nods to me and then sits on the bed by my side. “Ella,” he says urgently, taking my hand. “I need to go organize those guards, make sure that you are safe, make sure that they know to let Hank and Cora in when they get here –”

“Are they even going to be able to get here?” I gasp, looking up into my mate’s eyes, seeing the hesitation and doubt there. “Cora is across town – and I don’t know where Hank is – and we don’t have any medical supplies

“They’ll get here,” Sinclair growls, determination in every word. “But I have to go just for a few minutes – you text Cora, tell her where to come ” Sinclair pauses now, his eyes sweeping over me. “Ella, my love, will you be all right?”

I hesitate and then nod, suddenly, knowing that he has to do it. I want him by my side – don’t

want him absent for a minute – but I know that without him to lay out his commands to the

troops, this palace could be quickly overrun.

“Go,” I say, nodding encouragingly and working hard to put a little smile on my face. “We’ll be fine.” I move my hand to my belly again, worried, suddenly, as I realize that Rafe can feel my

anxiety – an anxiety beyond that which a new mother feels when she goes into labor. My poor baby – he’s already endured so much…

Sinclair shakes his head and I know that he, too, feels my guilt. But he leans forward, placing a steady kiss on my forehead, and whispers “I’ll be right back. Right back, Ella.” I nod, and then he’s striding away from me, leaving me alone here in this sumptuous room.

I’m very suddenly overcome by the strangeness and the silence of it all. My contraction has ended, so I’m not currently in pain, but I feel my breathing ratchet up anyway as I look around this gigantic dark room, at the lurking shadowy corners. Was this…was this where Damon slept? Where he lived his life? Where he came with his wife, with…with Lydia?

Suddenly, I start to shake with the panic of it all, and thick fat tears squeeze themselves from my eyes. God damn it – just a few hours ago I was so happy – so comfortable, so at peace with

everything –

How fast the world turns.

My hands shaking, I pull my phone from the emergency bag and begin to text my sister, letting her know that the plans have changed. Almost as soon as I send the text, though, my phone starts

to ring. I pick it up, my voice shaking.

“Hello?”

“What the hell is going on, Ella?” Cora’s voice furiously demands, “You need to get to the hospital.

Now.”

“We can’t,” I explain, my voice shuddering. “We don’t know who is out there or how many people there are – the rebels

“God damn it, Ella, I’m going to kill him,” she snarls.

“Who?” I gasp, desperate and uncomprehending.

“That mate of yours, for getting you into this.”

“It’s not his fault,” I growl, willing to defend Sinclair to the end of this.

–

“Whatever,” Cora snaps. “Listen, just…hold tight until this all gets sorted out, okay? I’m sure that Sinclair will have troops there in a few minutes – a whole wave of them – and they’ll be able to clear those insurgents and get you to the hospital. Fast.”

“Okay,” I say, nodding, a little relief coming to me at the idea. But then, I start to feel the pain rising again in me. “Um, Cora?” I ask, looking down at my stomach as the ache begins to intensify and spread.

“Yeah?” she asks, impatient. I can hear her moving around, objects clattering in the background in her hurry.

“Can you come here anyway? Like, now?”

“I’ll just meet you at the hospital

–

“No, Cora,” I insist. “I need you now.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the phone, complete silence. Then, my sister speaks. “What’s going on, Ella?”

“My contractions,” I explain. “They’re only they’re four minutes apart.”

My sister curses, shocking me a little with the intensity and fluency of her expletives. I blink in

shock.

“Just stay put, Ella,” she commands. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“But how will you

“I“ll be there –“ she shouts, and then the phone goes blank.

I drop the phone to the bed, my lip starting to tremble with anxiety and fear and loneliness. But then I glance down at myself, fighting against the spasms of shocking pain that are spreading through my center. Because I’m not alone, am I?

Rafe is here. And I need to start concentrating on him.

So, I take control – or at least, as much of it as I can. I stand up, ignoring everything in my situation except my baby and my body’s own needs. I peel back the covers of the bed, revealing the clean sheets beneath, and I climb in, stacking pillows behind me to support me as I sit against

them and start to breathe through the contraction. I close my eyes and concentrate on the bond between me and my child.

Just me and you, kid, I tell him, wiping my fear away as best I can and sending him a burst of love. I’ve got you. We can do this.

And my heart fills with courage as he sends me a little pulse back: belief.

Rafe trusts me. And it’s all I need.

It’s time to bring my baby into the world, and I’m ready. I was born for this.

 

Chapter 290

The sound of gunfire rings out around us and I feel Sinclair lurch to cover me in the suddenly- still car. Trembling, I try to peek out from beneath his arm as he curses vehemently, his body tense over mine.

The gunfire ends and Sinclair moves, jolting back to the driver’s seat and hitting the gas, spinning the car and heading away from the bullhorn that’s suddenly blasting words in our direction.

“What’s happening?!” I shout, begging for information, doubled over in pain as my body continues its contractions, not caring about the fact that we’re suddenly, apparently, in a war zone.

“The insurgents,” Sinclair growls, glancing over his shoulder. “Picked f**king tonight to push forward with their rebellion – god damn it –”

I glance over my shoulder as well, suddenly seeing a road block in the middle of the street with figures standing behind it, wearing masks and holding guns.

“Humans?” I ask, desperate. “Who don’t want peace?”

Sinclair nods sharply, spinning the car around the city’s center square. I look around suddenly – hadn’t known where we were my eyes fixing on the temple, the palace, these familiar places I haven’t seen in weeks – since

Quickly, I dismiss the thoughts from my mind, not letting myself go there. “Can we go back? Can we get out of it?”

“No,” he growls, speeding across the square and skidding to a stop in front of the palace. “They’ll have us boxed in by now, and they saw my face. God damn it, I should have seen this coming. They’ll come after us now – we have to get you inside.”

With that, Sinclair jumps out of the car, coming quickly to my side and pulling my door open. I step out and he lifts me quickly into his arms, charging forward to the palace. There are guards waiting at the door who look at us with shock and surprise.

“Alpha,” the guard says. “We weren’t expecting

“Let us in,” Sinclair growls, barely stopping to let his command register and ready to burst through the door if the guard doesn’t open it in time, which, fortunately, he does. “Barricade this entrance all of the entrances – get as many guards here as you can, and let no one in except at my command. Is that clear?”

The guard nods quickly, all business, ready to follow through on Sinclair’s commands. As soon as we’re in the dark palace, though, I open my mouth, letting out the sharp cry I’ve been holding back. This contraction – it’s horrible, sharper than the others, and fast –

“Sinclair,” I pant, looking up at him. “The baby is coming – we have to get to a hospital"

He shakes his head at me, looking horribly repentant as he pounds up the wide marble stairs. I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “We can’t go anywhere until we know it’s safe.””

“Then what are we…” I look around, not recognizing what part of the palace we’re in now. But, apparently, Sinclair knows where he’s going, throwing his shoulder into doors and bursting through them until, quite suddenly, we’re in a beautiful bedroom with a wide four–posted bed with blue velvet curtains hanging down from a rich canopy.

Sinclair slows now and I look around the sumptuous room in awe as he carefully places me on the bed. “Well,” he says, grimacing a little, apology still in his eyes. “A King’s bedroom is as good as any a place for Rafe to be born, don’t you think?”

“Is that where we are?” I wonder aloud, still panting as pain for just a moment.

Sinclair nods to me and then sits on the bed by my side. “Ella,” he says urgently, taking my hand. “I need to go organize those guards, make sure that you are safe, make sure that they know to let Hank and Cora in when they get here –”

“Are they even going to be able to get here?” I gasp, looking up into my mate’s eyes, seeing the hesitation and doubt there. “Cora is across town – and I don’t know where Hank is – and we don’t have any medical supplies

“They’ll get here,” Sinclair growls, determination in every word. “But I have to go just for a few minutes – you text Cora, tell her where to come ” Sinclair pauses now, his eyes sweeping over me. “Ella, my love, will you be all right?”

I hesitate and then nod, suddenly, knowing that he has to do it. I want him by my side – don’t want him absent for a minute – but I know that without him to lay out his commands to the troops, this palace could be quickly overrun.

“Go,” I say, nodding encouragingly and working hard to put a little smile on my face. “We’ll be fine.” I move my hand to my belly again, worried, suddenly, as I realize that Rafe can feel my anxiety – an anxiety beyond that which a new mother feels when she goes into labor. My poor baby – he’s already endured so much…

Sinclair shakes his head and I know that he, too, feels my guilt. But he leans forward, placing a steady kiss on my forehead, and whispers “I’ll be right back. Right back, Ella.” I nod, and then he’s striding away from me, leaving me alone here in this sumptuous room.

I’m very suddenly overcome by the strangeness and the silence of it all. My contraction has ended, so I’m not currently in pain, but I feel my breathing ratchet up anyway as I look around this gigantic dark room, at the lurking shadowy corners. Was this…was this where Damon slept? Where he lived his life? Where he came with his wife, with…with Lydia?

Suddenly, I start to shake with the panic of it all, and thick fat tears squeeze themselves from my eyes. God damn it – just a few hours ago I was so happy – so comfortable, so at peace with everything –

How fast the world turns.

My hands shaking, I pull my phone from the emergency bag and begin to text my sister, letting her know that the plans have changed. Almost as soon as I send the text, though, my phone starts to ring. I pick it up, my voice shaking.

“Hello?”

“What the hell is going on, Ella?” Cora’s voice furiously demands, “You need to get to the hospital.Now.”

“We can’t,” I explain, my voice shuddering. “We don’t know who

“God damn it, Ella, I’m going to kill him,” she snarls.

“Who?” I gasp, desperate and uncomprehending.

“That mate of yours, for getting you into this.”

“It’s not his fault,” I growl, willing to defend Sinclair to the end of this.

“Whatever,” Cora snaps. “Listen, just…hold tight until this all gets sorted out, okay? I’m sure that Sinclair will have troops there in a few minutes – a whole wave of them – and they’ll be able to clear those insurgents and get you to the hospital. Fast.”

“Okay,” I say, nodding, a little relief coming to me at the idea. But then, I start to feel the pain rising again in me. “Um, Cora?” I ask, looking down at my stomach as the ache begins to intensify and spread.

“Yeah?” she asks, impatient. I can hear her moving around, objects clattering in the background in her hurry.

“Can you come here anyway? Like, now?”

“I’ll just meet you at the hospital

–

“No, Cora,” I insist. “I need you now.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the phone, complete silence. Then, my sister speaks. “What’s going on, Ella?”

“My contractions,” I explain. “They’re only they’re four minutes apart.”

My sister curses, shocking me a little with the intensity and fluency of her expletives. I blink in

shock.

“Just stay put, Ella,” she commands. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“But how will you

”

“I“ll be there –“ she shouts, and then the phone goes blank.

I drop the phone to the bed, my lip starting to tremble with anxiety and fear and loneliness. But then I glance down at myself, fighting against the spasms of shocking pain that are spreading through my center. Because I’m not alone, am I?

Rafe is here. And I need to start concentrating on him.

—

So, I take control – or at least, as much of it as I can. I stand up, ignoring everything in my situation except my baby and my body’s own needs. I peel back the covers of the bed, revealing the clean sheets beneath, and I climb in, stacking pillows behind me to support me as I sit against

them and start to breathe through the contraction. I close my eyes and concentrate on the bond between me and my child.

Just me and you, kid, I tell him, wiping my fear away as best I can and sending him a burst of love. I’ve got you. We can do this.

And my heart fills with courage as he sends me a little pulse back: belief.

Rafe trusts me. And it’s all I need.

It’s time to bring my baby into the world, and I’m ready. I was born for this.